Blissful Hazes
by Box
Summary: A walk in the park, cross-bearing nuns, dirty pigeons and gothic lolitas, oh my! This is what happens when you're stuck taking Farfie out for a walk....


Blissful Hazes  
By. Bento Box  
03/02/01 

--- 

It was a beautifully (clichéd) sunny afternoon. The sun was up and shining, the birds were singing, and the bees humming. Then the peaceful serenity was abruptly broken.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The ear-piercing scream split the air, and was followed by other sudden bursts of shouts and screams.

"Faaaaaaaaaarrrrrfarelloooo! Farf!!"

"Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! FARFARELLO! GET BACK HERE!!!" The high-pitch shout would have been considered more of a young girl's angry scream.

"ACK! NO! NO! NOOO! BAD BOY! BAD!!!"

The seemingly young boy chased after his seemingly psychopathic (and psychotic) comrade, whose short bleached hair bobbed as he ran around wildly, scaring the daylights out of his chosen "victims". Poor nuns with their unbelievably huge, GIGANTIC crosses had proven far too much for Farfarello (Farf, Farfie...) to take.

Thus, the something dozen or so man chase.

"Argh, of all the days they had to come to the park and spread their freaking holy love. IT JUST HAD TO BE THE DAY I TOOK OUT FARFIE FOR A WALK!" The angry shout startled a flock of pigeons, and in a cloud of dirty feathers, they burst wildly from their feeding and blinded the dark-haired boy and his peeved companion.

"Bloody pigeons! FARFIE MAKE GOD HURT BY KILLING PI-ACK!" Farfarello choked on the last word because Nagi had taken that moment to use his telekinetic powers to keep an invisible leash-like hold around his neck. The Irishman peered at Nagi with one golden eye. "Nagi... *gasp*... also helping to hurt God *wheeze* by keeping Farfie *gurgle* in oxygen-cutting grip."

Nagi rolled his eyes, and eased a bit on his stranglehold. He walked towards the trapped man, and when he was within arms distance, immediately snapped on Farfarello's collar and released his invisible grip.

"No more running off. Got it?"

The Irishman gave him a blank look so Nagi took his silence as good of an affirmative as he could--until Farfarello suddenly went sprinting off, dragging the lighter boy along with him.

"FAAAAAAAAAAAAARFIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!"

His cry split the air and several startled individuals literally jumped and dove out of their way as the two careened by at a neck breaking speed--at least it SHOULD have been neck-breaking considering there was a collar around Farfarello's neck and Nagi was hanging on to it for dear life.

Unfortunately, Farfarello, thanks to his inhuman ability to feel any pain, was able to ignore the discomfort that would have usually hindered other more normal, human beings. Farfarello was lost in a blissful haze, as he merrily went on his way towards a destination unbeknownst to Nagi.

_15 minutes later..._

"What the HELL are we doing at the mall Farfarello?!"

A mother and her child watched in morbid interest as a slender Japanese boy screamed at the top of his lungs out at a slightly older boy with an impressive collection of visible scars slashing all over his body. The mother was amazed that the boy had the nerve to scream at someone so terrifying, and in a public facility no less! Her child was fascinated by the fact that so much ear-splitting noise could be coming from someone so small. His goal in the next six years of his tender life was to be form a rock group and belt out screechy and screamy vocals, reminiscent to the young boy's before him.

Farfarello remained unperturbed as the younger Japanese boy continued to scream at him.

Screams hurt God, and anything that... well.... you get the idea by now.

As if realizing that his screaming was only making the Irishman happily oblivious to his irate mood, Nagi took a calming breath and settled on the most evil eye he could conjure. If looks could kill, he'd have fried the living daylights out of the interested vendor peering at them from behind his little cart.

Farfarello snapped out of his blissful haze, seeming to notice that his companion had shut up. He gave a grin (the vendor almost pissed in his pants) and cackled (the vendor pissed in his pants....) before dragging off the surprised boy again.

Nagi's wide eyes grew wider when he was dragged (not quite kicking and screaming any longer) into the mall. He blinked into the blinding lights, and cringed at the sound of pop music blaring out of mall's indoor surround sound steroes.

He hid behind Farfarello, his aggravation momentarily forgotten, as wits scattered to the wind in face of this new, unvanguishable foe--discount shoppers. Their high-pitched, nasal voices reminded Nagi of a certain German redhead, only so much more terrifying. Utterly, completely, terrifying. Traumatizing even.

So he hid behind his pale companion, unable to focus with the oppressive calamity that the mall contained.

Farfarello hummed as he maneuvered them both through the mall, oblivious to anything and anyone. With his scars, eye-patch, and unnerving cackling that would suddenly bark out at random intervals, he and Nagi had a clear path throughout the mall since most of the mall goers would discreetly, and not so discreetly, relocate themselves to the opposite side of their paths.

Saying that the shoppers were petrified was the understatement of the year.

Farfarello turned around so many corners so many times that Nagi was beyond lost. Although, technically, he had been lost the moment Farfarello had taken off running through the park....

Slowly recovering his wits, Nagi began to notice his surroundings. Wherever Farfarello had led him to, it was a lot darker than it had been just a few minutes ago, and not as many shoppers. Or at least, not as many AUDIBLE shoppers....

The more Nagi began to take in his whereabouts, the more he noticed that the people around him were dressed in mostly black in an array of chains, buckles, straps and spikes. His eyes widened to the size of saucers when a particularly dressy woman walked by them.

At least he THOUGHT it was a woman... wasn't it?

Nagi wasn't entirely positive; everyone seemed so damnably androgynous that he had no idea who was a he or a she.

He inched even closer to Farfarello, taking refuge behind the taller man's body. Clenching the chain linked the collar tightly in his hands, he wondered what in God's holy shit were they doing in this place.

Sure seemed like a place where Farfarello would like though, black leather, spikes and all that.

Another revelation slapped him in the face, this time taking the form of self-awareness.

Nagi definitely did NOT fit this place.

Wait... did he just see a girl (BOY?!) walk by in a school uniform? Wait... the uniform was too tailored (more like too short, too flashy, too... perverse!) to be an actual school one. WAIT! DID HE/SHE JUST WINK AT HIM?! AH! WAAAIIIT! DID HE/SHE JUST POINT AT HIM AND AT THE CHAIN?!?!! AHHHHHHHHHH!! NO! WAIT, WAIT!!! DID IT THINK THAT NAGI WAS SOME WEIRD BONDAGE FREAK?!?!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wailing pitifully within his mind, Nagi let out a small whimper, feeling as if any remaining control over sanity slip from his fingers as the cause of his distress sauntered away, with a jaunty bounce that caused the censor-worthy skirt flipped upwards, a flash of white underpants visible.

He bit back another whimper when Farfarello's hands suddenly wrapped around his own and in a blind haze he was dragged (was it just him, or was Farfarello dragging him around an awful lot, today?) into a very darkly lit store.

"Hooooonnneeeeyyyy!!!!!!!!!! SOOO good to SEE yooouuuuu!!!!"

A petite figure with bouncing curls and bouncing breasts in a tightly laced corset attacked the Irishman once they had completely submerged into the small store.

Nagi, reimersed in his stupefied state, neither heard the enthusiastic greeting or the cackling that ensued.

He was barely getting OUT of his haze when he suddenly felt himself being dragged AGAIN. This time, it was the small lace-covered figure who had him by the hand.

He peered over his shoulder, and seeing the Irishman grinning maniacally back at him, he let out another whimper, a sinking feeling formed in the pit of his stomach.

He didn't even have a time to squeak out a meager, "Help me," before the bouncy woman shoved him into what seemed to be a fitting room and began to strip him of his uniform, and pile clothes into his arms.

He had no idea how the hell she was able to move so fast, seeming to be everywhere all at once, or why and when his brain had reduced to a pile of mush so that he allowed her (and that damn Irishman) to get away with this abuse upon his soul and very self-image.

Everything that transpired came and went in a blur of dark colors.

Nagi was in his haze again.

---

Crawford blinked, the glasses slipped down his nose a bit as he lowered his newspaper. He stared at the door with a blank expression on his face.

The lock turned with an audible click.

Schuldig looked away from the television, craning his head around to follow Crawford's gaze.

Bright light streamed into the dim apartment and the sound of shifting material and dark mutters followed two black masses into the apartment before the door was closed once more.

Crawford's brow rose....

..and rose...

....and rose some more.......

...and kept rising until it could rise no more.

Schuldig on the other hand, had formed a rather LARGE leer on his face.

Farfarello cackled.

Nagi's left eye twitched, and he turned several shades of red before settling on a pale tone and a mortified yet defensive stance.

Minutes ticked by on the clock and the apartment was silent save for Farfarello's constant cackling and the completely ignored television which was currently airing something from overseas called, Teletubbies.

A bead of sweat rolled down the back of Nagi's neck.

"ARGH!!! STOP FUCKING STARING AT ME!!! I CAN'T TAKE IT! I CAN'T TAKE IT!!!!!!!!! WHY DOES THIS SHIT HAVE TO HAPPEN TO ME?!?!?! WHHHYYYY MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE?!?!?!?!?!?! YOU GUYS TRY PUTTING UP WITH BEING DRAGGED ACROSS TOWN BY A ONE-EYED FREAK AND A SCARY LADY WITH FAKE BOUNCING BOOBS AND HAVE HER STRIP YOU AND DRESS YOU UP LIKE SOME FREAKY LITTLE DOLL AND PUT MAKE-UP ON YOU AND DO YOUR HAIR AND--AND--AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

Reduced to a nervous wreck, Nagi fled from his two entranced teammates and cackling one.

The door to his room slammed shut and the noise seemed to bring Crawford and Schuldig out of their reveries. Well, Crawford out of HIS reverie. Schuldig had been (still was, actually...) envisioning a very vivid image of him, Nagi, a pair of handcuffs, and some scented body oil....

Nagi with fishnet stockings, a lacy, doll-like dress, mid-thigh boots complete with buckles, straps and laces along with fingerless lace-gloves and ohhh!--pretty makeup with black lipstick accentuating those full lips and mascara and eyeliner and glitter and a little heart drawn on his cheek and bouncing curls in his hair, makes German redheads go, "OHHH, LA, LA!!!"

Needless to say, Schuldig was in a blissful XXX-rated haze.

Crawford blinked once, and calmly went back to his newspaper.

Farfarello had whipped out a knife hidden in one of the many pockets on his person and licked at the shining, gleaming blade. He continued to cackle.

Schuldig had disappeared from his seat in front of the television and was awkwardly making his way to the little boy's room to, ah, "relieve" himself. (ecchi people!!!! the john, not Nagi!)

---

Author's Notes: That... was fun. *amused look*


End file.
